The Origin of Meaning
by Nyruserra
Summary: Hoshi meant star, in Japanese etymology. Looking back, it had probably been the first indication of the power that words would hold over her future.


_Thanks to HogwartsDutchess, as always, for the love and support - you're truly a great friend, hon, to put up with this, when you've never even seen an episode. lol You know I'm going to end up converting you one of these days..._

This is my response to a challenge from the STMythology community (see link in my profile) to write a story/chapter for each theme in your set. My set is comprised of Greek/Roman myths. _  
_

**The Origin of Meaning**

_(Pygmalion's Statue)_

Hoshi meant star, in Japanese etymology. Looking back, it had probably been the first indication of the power that words would hold over her future.

Even at a very early age, Hoshi built the world around her, one word at a time.

_Sound (n) 'noise' c.1280, sound, from original French Son, from Latin Sonus 'sound', from PIE 'Swonos, from base, 'Swen'. Final 'd' established c. 1350-1550 as part of a tendency to add d after n. _

When she was six, the world around her suddenly dissolved into white noise. Alone, she floated, isolated from everything by the barrier of sound. Fluid had built up inside the canals, behind her eardrums, preventing necessary vibrationsfrom piercing her formless void. Screaming only made it worse, as the lack of noise even from her own voice, even as she felt the delicate lining of her throat tear and strain as she forced the air from her body, the utter lack of any sound terrified her more then even the absence of her parent's soft voices.

It was three weeks before they managed to clear the infection that created Hoshi's prison of silence.

When Hoshi had been ten, a boy down the street had given her a dragonfly. The kite was made of raw silk painted in brilliant colours laid over a very thin bamboo frame, and he had painstakingly made it with his grandfather. She had spent hours with that kite over the next few summers, marvelling at the graceful beauty as it flew, and how bravely it soared in the often-treacherous breezes that came down from the mountains. A bright spot of defiance, all alone and fiercely independent, far beyond anyone's reach. Somehow it had made her feel strong, just holding onto the other end of the string; and she wondered how it would feel to spread her wings and fly.

It had been jewel green, and at ten, Hoshi Sato thought it was the most beautiful colour in the world.

Tomo had been her first kiss, a few years later, one night under the cherry trees that lined the lane behind her school. Hoshi could taste the sweet perfume of the cherry blossoms, and the bite of the peppermints he had been eating. She wondered if he had been nervous, and asked him if he ever thought of flying.

She lost her taste for peppermints since then but, occasionally, drank a cup of strong mint tea and thought of sakura blossoms in the grey twilight.

Academics had always been easy for Hoshi, but she had never done as well at the piano lessons her mother insisted on. She found a world of sounds without precise value chaotic and formless, and the hours of practice became torturous as she foundered, trying to find meaning, to penetrate the barrier of understanding. It made her nervous, and her mother wondered at her recalcitrance.

_Metronome: __England, from combined form of Greek __metron__ "measure + __-nomos__ "regulating," verbal adj. of __nemein__ "to regulate"._

When her teacher introduced her to the metronome, things suddenly came into focus. The measured sounds giving structure and form, opening a world of values in a sea of noise.

Hoshi still played piano everyday, when she left for the Academy. When asked, she would say, it made her think of dragonflies.

_Confidence: c 1430, from Latin 'confidentia, from confidentum, prp, of confidere, from com-intens. Prefix + fidere "to trust"_

She left for Brazil when she was twenty, to teach the guttural sounds of the Vulcan language to indifferent students who only wished to appear intellectual. Her beautiful kite lay carefully packed away in her mother's attic. She had been worried that the fragile Japanese silk would be ruined in the damp heat of Brazil, and so it had been left behind.

She didn't dream of flying much anymore.

Hoshi built the world around her with words. They brought meaning to the void, gave each situation rules and structure – And when she was twenty-three, they brought Jonathan Archer to Brazil.

Cotton stuck to her skin, as she sat under the flowering pink ipes, listening as Captain Archer's words flowed around her, casting an augury of her future.

The sound of his voice had been kind and powerful, and had driven Hoshi with the strength of his vision; words dancing around them like cherry blossoms on the May breeze.

He offered her the chance_ be_, and he shared the splendour of his dream, until everything else was just a foil to it. A new adventure, to brave the winds, join Starfleet and be the first to hear the music and sense in the alien words.

She was startled, when years later she thought back to this moment, and wondered if Jonathan liked peppermints.

_Enterprise: c.1430, from modern French, 'an undertaking', noun, use of feminine p.p of entreprendre 'undertake, take in hand' from entre – 'between' + prendre 'to take' Abstract sense of 'readiness to undertake challenges, spirit of daring' from 1475._

The whine of the engines sometimes worked its way into her skull, especially when she lay down to sleep, driving everything else from her mind, enclosing her once again in a cocoon of static noise. It had been two months, and she had yet to get a decent night's rest. The stars streaked by at the wrong angle, increasing her sense of abstract isolation as the engines continued to render her world into so much white noise.

Words spoken without sound, were often the most powerful, she learned.

When he found her almost in tears, curled up in the mess hall in her comfortable fluffy robe, and her bunny slippers, he gently chided her for suffering in silence, with the reproach in his eyes. Reminding her that the people here were all that stood for humanity out in the far reaches of space, and that they all leaned on each other occasionally when he reached down and gently uncurled her stiff fingers from her cold teacup. Told her that it was okay to be Hoshi when he didn't even laugh at her shuffling bunny slippers as he walked her back to her cabin.

She gradually came to regard the ship as her home and found her place amongst the crew, just as he'd predicted, what seemed like forever ago now in a humid dream of a tropical garden.

She lived in a world of purple-y blue that reminded her of the sky that had held up a dragonfly when she was a child, and she felt brave in the face of the winds brought down from the stars.

_Communication: c.1384, from old French, communicacion, from Latian communicationem from communicare 'to impart, share' Literally, 'to make common', from communis_

Then the Xindi came, and everything changed. She watched as her friend and Captain of two years traded his soul away a piece at a time in the chaotic space of the Expanse. Withdrawn from the crew, even from his cherished beagle, Hoshi saw Jonathan cut himself off from everyone on board; remote and iconic.

She worried he didn't hear them, lost behind a barrier where their words couldn't reach, and dreamed of drowning in seas of static, while the waves filled her ears and throat.

They came back from the Expanse weary, and more fiercely determined then ever to put the experiences of that place behind them, to live the dream that had brought them out here in wonder and excitement. Gradually, people began to heal, though Hoshi knew that some still carried the guilt with them for the things they had been forced to do there.

She was one of them. The scars of her encounter with will-inhibiting parasite aboard the Xindi ship, and the part she almost played in Earth's destruction left her sleepless for along time. The memory of waking up in Sickbay, after the whole ordeal, with Jonathan sprawled in a chair off to the side, snoring softly, was one she held up against the darkness of those memories. He had understood how much she had needed to be apart of the solution, despite her condition – a decision that she knew many hadn't understood. He had held her hand while he slept, the cares of command temporarily washed from his face as he and given into exhaustion where he sat, and for a moment he was the same man she had met in Brazil, and she knew he had heard her silent words as she tried in so many ways to remind him how much faith his crew had in him, always.

At twenty-eight, she found that she wouldn't trade her time aboard Enterprise for anything.

He found her in the mess hall, wearing her bunny slippers and big fluffy robe, fingers curled round a steaming mug of mint tea. They sat in comfortable silence as the stars streaked by. His hand was warm were it rested against hers on the chrome Starfleet issue tabletop, shortest finger gently entwined with hers.

He told her how brave she had been, and how far she had come, and how glad he was she had followed him out among the stars.

She laughed, and told him he was her dragonfly. He looked startled, and she noticed when she looked at him that his eyes were even darker in the dim light of the Gamma shift.

Hoshi found that jewel green was still her favourite colour, and that night, she dreamt of flying.

-..-

_Jonathan: From the Hebrew Ynathan, Literally, 'the Lord has given' or 'Gift from God'; son of Saul, embodiment of generosity, manliness and justice._

_And husband to Hoshi Sato._

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**Notes:** Yeay - I get to cross one off my list! happy dance This is a very abstract interpretation of the myth, I know. Hopefully, it still 'works' for people (other then just me)

Feedback is taken out and pet frequently ;-)


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